Ghostly Encounters
by Madame-Cazone
Summary: Shortly after the death of his beloved godfather, Sirius Black, Harry is still pining for the life he never had, and the man who was going to show him that life. Does pain bring those we love back? No, but that doesn't stop Sirius.


**Disclaimer:** We do not own Harry Potter, though we kinda wish we did. Special thanks goes to blacklily449, who co-wrote this story with me.

Blacklily totally almost cried writing this, just FYI.

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The halls of Hogwarts echoed with a silent air as one lone soul wandered aimlessly, not paying attention to anything as they continued to stroll, footsteps becoming louder and louder with each passing second. 

This lone figure was Harry James Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived was still agonizing over the death of his beloved godfather, Sirius Black. It seemed that not too long ago the two were discussing Harry possibly staying with Sirius once his name was cleared of the charges which we so wrongly placed against him. But now Sirius was gone, and Harry now understood that he was never coming back; he would be completely alone now, no family to speak of…not even a godfather.

Though he still held Hermione and the Weasley's close to his heart, none of them could help to replace the place in his heart that had once been filled by the man who had one time been hated by many, including Harry himself. And that twisting pain in his stomach served as a constant reminder, that the death of the Marauder had been his fault in the first place. Had he closed his mind, like Dumbledore had wanted, then Voldemort wouldn't have been able to project those images into his head, making him believe that he had, and was torturing Sirius for information.

So caught up was Harry in his melancholy thoughts he hadn't noticed that farther along the hall a jovial transparent man bobbed along. This ghost was known for his pranks and his almost never fading grin which always painted across the man's face, stretching it taunt. Harry, Hermione and Ron had had a few scrapes with the Hogwarts poltergeist within their years at the magical school, none of which was favourably remembered. Harry was finally forced to realize Peeve's presence when he walked through him, feeling the telltale chill anyone got when walking through a ghost.

"Potty!" screamed the prankster with glee. "What urkes you so that you don't even say hello to old Peevsie?"

But before the boy could answer, Peeves had swooped over his head, blowing rude raspberries that seemed to reverberate through the deserted corridor. Harry merely glared at Peeves, refusing to answer his jests, his attempts to make him feel worse than he already did.

"Piss off Peeves," the teen growled, not in the mood for the strange man's sense of humour today, than again when was he ever?

"Such a naughty naughty boy we are," Peeves said in that sing song voice he seemed to always use, "We thinks he should be more respectful to us," the ghost said, his grin widening slightly before blowing another loud raspberry. Harry merely turned and started to walk further down the corridor wanting to put as much space between himself and the poltergeist as possible.

But as he turned, a hearty laugh sounded from behind, a laugh he had come to know so well in the days before his godfather's untimely death. And as he turned back, on his heel, his green eyes widened, mouth hung open slightly as he saw the image of the man who he had lost such a short time ago, floating before him in a transparent form.

"Sirius?" he whispered, not daring to believe his own words.

"Why would anyone be respectful to someone like you Peeves?" asked the slightly shimmering figure of Harry's godfather, crossing one semi-transparent arm over the other as a smile crossed his handsome face. "Hey Harry, don't tell me you were brooding?" the smile quickly turned into a grin that made him seem even more handsome than he had looked with a smile. A ghost of the charming boy the man had once been flitting across his face. Harry wanted nothing more than to run to the image of his godfather and embrace him, but there was a rather large flaw in that plan; Sirius was only a ghost of his former self.

"But….but…"stammered the boy. "How?"

"Quite simple, actually," Sirius grinned, as if playing another practical joke on a mere classmate rather than his godson. "I haven't moved on yet."

This reality was too much for Harry to bear, as a single tear rolled down his cheek from where it lay behind his glasses. It had been now a few weeks since Sirius had died, and Harry himself had chased Bellatrix down, escaping Lupin's firm grasp as he raced toward the killer of the only man who had called him family with pride. It was then that Harry had nearly lost his life to Voldemort, had Dumbledore not interfered and saved him yet again.

The doglike man, seeing the tear glistening on his godson's face strolled over, or rather glided, reaching out a silvery hand as though to wipe it away before remembering that he could no longer do such a physical act of affection towards one of the few people who had cared about him and slowly withdrew his hand from where it had stopped, inches from the shocked Gryffindor's face.

"Harry…" he murmured, for the first time since appearing showing indescribable sadness upon his features.

"All this time," breathed the boy. "All this time that you could have come back and told me that you were alright, and you wait until now to show yourself!"

Now the anger began to burn, partly at Sirius, but partly at himself, for he still thought that his godfather's death had been nothing more than his fault, despite the accusations that Tonk's had placed on herself, because she had been the one fighting Bellatrix in the beginning. But no, Sirius was dead, and there was nothing Harry could do to reverse the effects of time. He felt helpless, pathetic, weak.

A look of shock crossed the older man's features, as though Harry had slapped him. "Harry I-," he started but seemed unable to finish. As he looked at the boy he saw not only him but also his best friend, it was as though both were yelling at him. He could understand the emotions going through the boy but only in theory. He had never considered himself a Black so the family he had meant little to him but now that Sirius was bound for the eternal sleep of spirits Harry must feel so very alone; as though all had abandoned him. "Harry, I am sorry that my death has upset you but don't dwell on it too long. You are young, and still have much to do. We all have faith in you, _I_ have faith in you. You and Ron and Hermione, even though I am gone I know you three will succeed. Don't let this ruin your life, its not what James would do, or what he'd want you to do."

"How would you know?" he asked quietly. "My Father's been dead for almost fourteen years. You didn't endure the pain I just did. When you died, it was like feeling abandoned all over again! You were the closest thing I've ever had to a Father, so what do I do now that you're gone? Answer me that!"

He didn't mean to sound so hateful, but he knew he did. The pressures of life were closing in, and there was no one to show him the way, no one to help him make the choices he knew needed to be made. There was no Fatherly guidance, unless he counted Dumbledore, and even then, the old man seemed distant with Harry now more than ever.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the translucent form before him. "I don't mean it. It just hurts. I was looking forward to having a real life, like anyone else my age, and without you here, that'll never happen."

"Harry, I never knew my father either, so I know the pain you must be feeling. But know that even if I can't be seen I'll still be looking out for you. You can have a normal life without me; I know you're strong enough to accomplish it. I can't tell you exactly what to do now that I'm gone, but there is one thing I wanted to ask of you before I leave," he paused as though the words were hard for him.

"L-leave," Harry sputtered, "But you can't! I just got you back!" tears glistened in his emerald eyes once again.

"Live Harry, promise me you'll live your life…I already know you will but whatever you do don't be tied down by the death of me, your parents or anyone else. Live for you Harry," he said leaning forward to place his hands on the youth's shoulders. Instead of experiencing the normal chilling factor that surrounded spirits clinging to life he instead felt a comforting warmth, as though life was once again returning to the man's flesh. He leaned forward and placed a fatherly kiss on the boy's forehead before his silver shape starter to glimmer and fade.

Harry reached out to try to grab onto the man before he was gone forever but came up holding thin air as a smile faded into existence on Sirius face.

That smile was the last thing to fade before Sirius Black was gone forever and Harry left staring at an empty corridor.

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**So, this is what we do. Got any requests? Send them to me, or to blacklily449, and we'll see if we can create a One-shot or other fanfic for you!**

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